


If Walls Could Talk

by DiRoxy



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Old work, Silly boys being silly, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 01:38:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8382865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiRoxy/pseuds/DiRoxy
Summary: If walls could talk, many of them would have quite the story to tell. And yet others wouldn’t have a story at all because they’re too young. But these walls. They have a story that could write a hundred years. They have a story about two men who went from friends to lovers, a story of heart break and joy, but mostly a story about love and overcoming the fear of the world and the stigma of being who you chose to be.
They have a story about two men that denied everything until it all hit rock bottom, and then built each other back up.
If these walls could talk, they could tell you everything about Mark Fischbach and Jack McLoughlin and the struggles they went through.
I suppose it’s lucky for us that on this night, this one night of the year, the ghosts in those walls can talk.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey okay!! So I am working on moving my works from my sideblog, septiplieraway, onto my AO3 account because I realized that they weren't over here. So this is an old work, but I hope you all still enjoy it, and please go check out my main tumblr, Rainelily! :) <3 Have a great day ya'll!

If walls could talk, many of them would have quite the story to tell. And yet others wouldn’t have a story at all because they’re too young. But these walls. They have a story that could write a hundred years. They have a story about two men who went from friends to lovers, a story of heart break and joy, but mostly a story about love and overcoming the fear of the world and the stigma of being who you chose to be.

They have a story about two men that denied everything until it all hit rock bottom, and then built each other back up.

If these walls could talk, they could tell you everything about Mark Fischbach and Jack McLoughlin and the struggles they went through.

I suppose it’s lucky for us that on this night, this one night of the year, the ghosts in those walls can talk.

—

Mark and Jack had an interesting relationship. Of course they were friends, they had been friends for a long time. The transition into roommates had even gone relatively smoothly. Never mind the coffee incident in the first month. Or the stove lighting on fire. Really, those were one off things that didn’t happen again. Thankfully.

Neither one of them wanted to explain how the burner caught on fire again.

But still, their relationship was interesting. Neither of them were sure when it started to happen, but they had started to walk in egg shells around each other. Maybe it was when Jack really noticed how adorable Mark looked in the mornings after he’d just gotten up and his hair was all disheveled. Or maybe the time he’d figured out how strong Mark was when he’d been caught by him after trying to reach the coffee on the top shelf and he’d slid off the counter.

Or yet maybe it had been Mark that had started it, when he had first seen Jack pass out at his computer desk after editing all night. It had been endearing, and he’d taken the chance to carry the man to bed and tuck him in. After all, the cricks that came from sleeping at a desk were nothing fun.

But it still stood that neither of them were truly comfortable when the other was around/awake, and they didn’t know how to fix it.

Jack stirred the sugar into his coffee silently, a frown creasing his brow and causing a dip in his mouth. The corner of his lips was caught between his teeth and he rolled his thoughts in his mind. He heard Mark moving around in the living room and he just barely stopped himself from sighing, covering it by taking a sip of his coffee. Almost instantly he grimaced and pulled the cup away, whining as his tongue burned and stung. Light laughter from the side caused him to turn his head and he wrinkled his nose at Mark.

“Burn your tongue?” Mark asked, going over to the sink to put his own cup in.

“No,” Jack said, pursing his lips. But he still had a smile in his eyes, it was hard not to smile at Mark. What with the way his heart and stomach decided to samba around him. Well, then again that might have been what made him so uncomfortable. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt this way obviously, but it was the first time he’d felt it for a man and one of his best friends.

Maybe moving to L.A. hadn’t been his brightest decision if this was what he got out of it. Confused feelings and egg shells. But hey, it was good for networking, he liked living with his friend, and the internet was a hell of a lot better. He could deal with it, probably.

“Uh huh, sure you didn’t,” Mark said. He laughed at Jack, giving him a smile before leaning against the counter. “So, what are you working on today?” he asked.

Jack hummed and gave a small shrug, blowing on his coffee before taking a small sip. It didn’t burn this time so that was a bonus. “Not certain. Probably some more Happy Wheels or something, I need something to pick up my energy levels. I’m draggin today for some reason.”

Mark nodded and seemed to contemplate something. “Want to play some Rocket League?” he asked after a moment.

Jack glanced at him and then gave a slow nod. “Yeah sure, sounds like fun,” he said with a smile. The other man looked relieved before saying that he would go set the server up and then leaving the kitchen. Jack leaned back against the counter and sighed, looking down at his cup of coffee. He gave it a small swirl before taking another drink.

He was kidding himself, it was getting harder to not say anything about how he felt. And playing games with Mark wasn’t going to make it any easier, he knew that much from experience. Watching someone you loved just get so excited about a game, get so into it, and not being able to blurt out how you felt when you’ve been holding it back for months - it was torture. But he would subject himself to it in order to make Mark happy. They’d been on rocky ground for a while now, egg shells, trying not to disturb what good thing they had going on. He wasn’t going to ruin that. So he finished his coffee, buried his feelings, and headed to the recording room.

—

Mark combed his fingers vigorously through his hair, gnawing on his bottom lip. The recording with Jack had gone well enough, and he’d only wanted to kiss him about 5 times in the 30 minute session. Now the man was back in his own recording room, and he could vaguely make out him yelling something about Billy. So it must be happy wheels again like he’d mentioned earlier.

Mark was at a loss. It constantly felt like Jack was hiding something from him, or like he was angry at him. He didn’t know how to handle it, or how to fix what he might have done wrong. It was driving him a little bit crazy, and it didn’t help that all he really wanted to do was pull the Irishman into his arms and just hold him tightly. Honestly that’s all he’d wanted to do for weeks now. But he couldn’t, because that would be overstepping the grounds of friendship and he didn’t know if he could do that. He liked his friendship with Jack, and pushing it into something more - well if it all went to hell then he wouldn’t really know what to do with himself. He didn’t think he could do that.

He sighed and leaned back in his computer chair, sinking slightly and running his fingers through his hair again. It flopped down in front of his eyes and he couldn’t even be bothered to push it out of the way.

Man he was in way too deep.

This was going to suck. A lot.

—

Mark bit his tongue as Jack flirted shamelessly with the waiter at the bar, turning his attention to the table and taking a drink from his water. The rim of the glass clinked against his teeth, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care at the sting. He’d thought going out with their friends would have been a good idea, but in reality he was regretting this decision a hell of a lot.

Jack looked amazing in his nice jeans and a t-shirt that clung to all the right places, and his eyes were bright, and Mark was royally fucked and not in the way he wanted to be by Jack.

And it was just them at the table while the guys were playing games over in the arcade, all because he’d volunteered to wait for the food to get there while the others went off and had some fun.

And now Jack was flirting.

God. Damn it.

At least the food was here.

He grabbed a fry and bit into it, staring down at the table even harder when Jack slid back into the booth with their drinks in hand.

“Hey, why the long face?”

Mark glanced up at him and bit back his initial retort, instead managing to give a tight smile. “Just tired.”

Jack nodded and passed him his soda. “Yeah, I feel ya. Why don’t we trade with Arin and Danny? They can watch the table while we go play some games. I saw air hockey over there, I think we need a rematch.” His eyes were an even darker blue in this light, and Mark’s heart did a flip that made him want to clutch at his chest. This was getting hard. Harder than normal.

Mark looked down at the table and licked his lips slightly, taking a sip of his soda before nodding. “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. You want to grab them?” he asked.

Jack nodded and gave him a brilliant smile. “Yeah sure! I’ll be right back with them,” he said. He pushed away from the table and headed off into the depths of the arcade, and Mark watched him manoeuver through the crowd.

He was so fucked.

He sighed and focused down at the table once more, running a finger across the marks that were dug into the wood. Names and dates of people he’d never met, but they’d sat here before him. He vaguely wondered if anyone else had gone through this too. This painful cycle of wanting to say something but not wanting to say something at the same time for fear of ruining it all.

Probably. He wasn’t exclusive in the universe after all.

This still sucked though.

He turned his head and saw Danny and Arin heading his way, but Jack had been stopped in the middle of the room by the bartender. He must have gone on his break then if he was away from his post. Not that Mark cared. He was especially resolved to not care at all. It was really too bad his fries got the worst of his annoyance. He really had wanted to enjoy them instead of simply crush them between his teeth in an attempt to hold his tongue.

Ah well.

Danny slid into the booth and gave Mark a grin. “Hey. Jack told us you two were gonna rematch some air hockey. Have fun man.”

Mark gave a faint nod and glanced in Jack’s direction, almost audibly grinding his teeth when he saw that he was flirting up a storm with the bartender. “Yeah. Right after Jack’s done flirting.” He probably wasn’t aware of exactly how bitter he sounded when he said it, but Danny and Arin shared a look across the table.

They could tell this wasn’t going to end well.

Sometimes something had to give. And this was one of those times. But the real question was what was it going to be?

—

Jack stared at the back of Mark’s head as they walked back to their house, trying to figure out what exactly it was he had done to tip the balance. What had he done to upset their delicate act? All he knew was that Mark was stalking down the sidewalk, obviously unhappy about something and it was easy to see that it was at something Jack had done.

But he had no idea what it was.

They’d left the arcade in relatively good spirits, and everything had been good until they’d left their friends and continued on by themselves. Then Mark’s demeanor had changed and he’d receded into himself, and Jack would even dare to say he was sulking.

The way he threw their front door open confirmed to him that Mark was sulking.

What the actual fuck did he do?

He toed off his shoes and watched silently at Mark put his keys away. “Mark?” he asked softly.

Mark twitched and gave a hum, letting Jack know that he heard him.

“Everything okay? Did I do something?”

Mark turned to look at him and there was a look in his eyes that he’d never seen before. Dark and heated, and it made him feel things he probably wasn’t supposed to feel considering he was pretty certain Mark was angry on some level.

Dear god Jack do not blurt out the thoughts running through your head. That would shatter the eggshells completely.

It really didn’t help that Mark was contemplating his words, Jack could practically see the gears turning in his head.

Do not say anything you’ll regret, Jack. Don’t do it. Hold your tongue.

“Mark?”

Something in his eyes darkened and then melted, and Mark let out a quiet sigh. “Sorry, no, you didn’t do anything.”

Jack frowned and tipped his head. “Are you sure?” he asked softly.

Mark nodded and headed into the living room, and Jack followed along behind him. He pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket, glancing at it and then blinking. He’d forgotten the bartender had given him his phone number. Maybe he’d call him. Heh, who was he kidding. He was far too gone to contemplate anyone else.

“What’s that?”

“Bartender’s number,” Jack answered, setting it on the side table. A tense silence followed his comment and he looked over, furrowing his brow. “Mark?”

“Why don’t- why haven’t you just seen- I didn’t know I hid it that well-” Mark tugged his fingers through his hair and groaned, sitting up and planting his feet on the floor. “Are you just blind? Have I actually been hiding it that well? Who fucking knows? Not me, apparently.”

“Mark?” Jack ventured quietly, crossing over to him. “What are you going on about?” It couldn’t possibly be, could it? Mark looked up at him and Jack held his breath, his stomach flipping uncomfortably. He’d never expected getting someone’s number to have this effect on Mark. But surely? No. It couldn’t. Surely he would have gotten a clue by now if Mark had feelings for him.

But that look in his eyes, that helpless and exasperated look.

Maybe he was wrong.

—

Mark seriously could not believe that the man in front of him was that clueless. There was absolutely no way in hell he didn’t catch on yet. Here Mark was, being a jealous ass over someone he only wanted to be with, and didn’t have the balls to actually do anything about, and yet Jack still seemed oblivious to what he was saying.

Dear god.

Was he going to have to be that blatant?

Probably.

Fuck.

He looked up at Jack and let his eyes flicker down his lips - the damn man was biting them and worrying them between his teeth. He was going to kill Mark. He was probably okay with that, but he wanted to at least kiss him first.

How easily that thought crossed his mind, unhindered, threw him off for a moment and he blinked before laughing softly. Oh what the hell did he have to lose anymore anyway?

He watched the confusion cross Jack’s features and he only smiled, bringing his hands up and fisting them in Jack’s shirt. He could practically feel the questions that Jack was going to be asking, and instead of letting them come out he pulled him down and kissed him. It was nothing fancy, nothing special, just a soft brush of their lips meeting. He swallowed Jack’s surprised sound, and allowed him to pull back. Looking up, he could only smile at the stunned expression on his face. But the longer that the Irishman didn’t say anything, the more worry started to pull at his gut and twist his stomach into knots.

Oh god he’d gone and fucked everything up.

Oh god. Oh shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck.

And then Jack giggled and his thoughts ground to a halt.

“Holy shit, I am fucking blind.”

Well that wasn’t what he expected.

Mark blinked up at him, furrowing his brow. “What-”

“You’re right,” Jack said, slowly dropping his arms onto Mark’s shoulders and tangling a hand into his hair to tip his head back. He bent down and his mouth hovered just above Mark’s, causing the man’s brain to start short circuiting. “I’m blind as fuck to not see your feelings. But admittedly, you’re pretty damn blind too.” His mouth quirked into a smile and Mark felt his stomach flip because he was able to feel it so close to him.

“Oh really,” he breathed back. “How am I the blind one here?”

“You didn’t see that I felt the same way. We’ve been walking on eggshells for months about the same thing, and neither of us did anything about it,” Jack murmured.

Mark had to chuckle lightly at that and he tipped his head slightly into Jack’s hand. “Well, I guess we’re both blind and dumb then.”

Jack smiled again and slotted his mouth against Mark’s again, letting out a shuddering sigh before pressing in closer and tightening his hand in his hair. He crowded into Mark’s space, kneeling on the crouch and holding himself above Mark’s lap. He balanced with his arms on his shoulders, and he shivered when Mark’s hands fell naturally to his hips.

Dear god why had it taken them this long to do this.

He didn’t know, but god he was glad it was happening now.

And let the walls tell their tales, only they would really know what happened.


End file.
